<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Dubium by CancerianWastelandCat</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23230495">Dubium</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CancerianWastelandCat/pseuds/CancerianWastelandCat'>CancerianWastelandCat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Abyss of Hearts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>the GazettE (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Betrayal, Flashbacks, Forbidden Love, Implied Sexual Content, King/Soldier relationship, M/M, Magic, Magical Powers - Gift of foresight, Power Dynamics, Pre-Betrayal, Royalty, Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:41:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,575</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23230495</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CancerianWastelandCat/pseuds/CancerianWastelandCat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It all began with a roll of parchment. Years later, Uruha would risk it all to save the man he loves, even if it means betrayal, and they both know.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Uruha/Aoi (the GazettE)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Abyss of Hearts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dubium</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please don't ask me where exactly this is going because I don't know either. I had an idea for the beginning, one for the end and made everything in-between up as I went. That being said, I like the outcome and hope you enjoy it, too!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>1 year ago.</strong>
</p><p>Darkness had fallen upon the palace. Hugged by heavy iron cages, the torches lining the thick walls illuminated Uruha’s path with an intense, flickering shade of orange. His legs carried him to the most remote wing of the building, down corridors and up one small flight of stairs at a time; his feet were a little bit too eager if he was being honest with himself. </p><p>The guards on either side of the king's bedchamber eyed him skeptically. Not because they didn't know him—he knew both of them by name. </p><p>"You are dismissed," he told the two men and they fixed their expressions, saluting at his order. "I want Hirozaki and Nobita at the First Gate. Let them know they are not to let anyone pass. His Majesty wishes not to be disturbed." </p><p>Straightening their spears, the guards bowed and trotted away down the hallway. Uruha looked after them. The king had personally ordered him to only staff the First Gate—the door that separated the private wing of the palace from the rest—but he felt uneasy at the idea. It was simply too far away in case of an emergency; deliberate for the king's privacy but not very strategic. </p><p><em> "I have you for cases of emergency, do I not?" </em> the king had answered when Uruha had brought it up. He couldn't exactly oppose. </p><p>Uruha filled his lungs with air and knocked his fist against the blackoak door. A few seconds later he was softly granted permission to enter. He stepped in, closing the door behind himself. As always, all the curtains were drawn and only the candle holders distributed throughout the room shed their light onto the dark floor and the crimson bedsheets. If he hadn't known better, Uruha could've sworn this was meant to feel romantic. But the king wasn't like that. At all. </p><p>Seated before his vanity table, the king met his gaze in the mirror. His silken robe pooled around the stool he was sitting on, a smile tugging at his lips as he nodded in acknowledgement.</p><p>"Commander." </p><p>Uruha bowed his head in a manner a little less respectful than would've been necessary had they been outside this room. "Your Majesty." </p><p>"It has been a while."</p><p>"I would be lying if I said I haven’t been waiting."</p><p>The king lifted a finely plucked eyebrow at him but he was chuckling when he arose. Uruha sucked in a breath. That robe didn't leave much to his imagination; not that he needed his imagination to begin with, not anymore. Still, he was grateful that between just the two of them he didn't need to keep his eyes under control. They roamed the king's body with the usual hunger he only ever knew in nights like these, from his exposed collarbones to his flat stomach, along his hips and lower. </p><p>The king narrowed his eyes at him. "Is that so? Have you fallen into addiction by now, Uruha?" </p><p>Uruha watched the king's every step as he approached him, and he smiled. The way he felt was no secret really. "I’m afraid so, Your Majesty."</p><p>The king licked his lips, an impish glint to the Gold in his right eye.  </p><p>"How very convenient for me," he mused and another nod of his head finally permitted Uruha to begin. He lifted his hands to the buttons of his uniform and began to open them, one after the other. The king left him to it. Uruha discarded his jacket onto the chair in front of the vanity, then got rid of his boots and socks, and continued with the buttons on his black linen shirt.</p><p>"Any particular wishes tonight?" he asked as he always did, turning towards the object of his desire and making his way to him. The king shook his head wordlessly where he stood beside the large bed. A single strand of black hair fell from behind his ear and his tongue darted out briefly, wetting his thumb and index finger before he choked the candlelight on his bedside table without so much as blinking. </p><p>"The usual," he added after that and his gaze rose as Uruha stepped up to him. The air between their bodies finally caught onto the familiar tingle. </p><p>Uruha slid his shirt off his shoulders and noticed with gut-wrenching satisfaction that not even the king could keep himself in check at this point. His eyes travelled across Uruha's trained torso with blatant eagerness in them and he even granted himself a bite to his lip once Uruha laid hands to the buckle of his belt. By the time the leather met the floor, the mattress had already dipped beneath their weight and Uruha's mouth descended upon the king's throat. Willingly, and with a vulnerability to his features that only very few people knew in him, the king allowed Uruha to pull at the strings of his robe and bared himself to his wandering hands.</p>
<hr/><p>The nights Uruha spent with the king always followed the same pattern. It wasn’t every night though, obviously. The king governed their pace. Sometimes it would only be days and sometimes Uruha wouldn't get to visit him for weeks, but he’d polished his patience to perfection over time. And it was worth it <em> every </em> time.<br/>
Usually he would find a small roll of parchment paper on his desk around late afternoon, the same four words written on it in confident cursive. </p><p>
  <em> Come    see    me    tonight. </em>
</p><p>By the time he’d found the parchment on his desk for the very first time, Uruha had long fallen. It had only been two years since he’d joined the royal guards, albeit in an unconventional manner. It wasn’t very common for newly recruited soldiers, barely twenty-two years old, to be accepted into the Royal Life Guard without an in-depth examination, many years of hard work and proving themselves worthy. In fact, it had never happened before Uruha. But his military records were flawless and bestowed on him an excellent reputation that managed to convince the Head of the Royal Life Guard at the time of his suitability. Needless to say, Uruha never enjoyed the trust or even the friendliness of his fellow soldiers at court. </p><p>Fortunately, neither of the two were of necessity to him. His job was to protect their prince, to keep him out of harm’s way at any and all times, no matter the cost. He didn't need ‘friends’ to fulfill his duty and over the years he had found himself pitying those who thought they did. The only thing Uruha truly needed was a sword. That, and the prince’s trust, but he’d earned the latter quickly. </p><p>He didn't let it show, of course, the way he felt. Two years of being the ever-protective statue by the prince’s side, watching the kind of people he consorted with, had taught him the importance of hiding his digressing thoughts very well. The covetous gazes of both men and women followed the prince wherever he set foot and it was all too easy for Uruha to decipher their nature. In their shameless attempts to entertain the prince and earn his favor, many were sexual, and many more political. Undoubtedly, most of them were both. </p><p>His own— well. </p><p>As it had turned out, there was someone even better at reading people than him. He had read Uruha; had only looked into his eyes every so often but when he had, he’d delved down to his twisted core and into his most debauched desires. Uruha had always looked away as fast as he could, regained his composure. Temporarily he would feel he had won their little game, yet he’d known going forward that he was completely and utterly at Shiroyama Yuu’s mercy. </p><p>It’d been established knowledge since the very first time he had called upon him, really. Uruha remembered the day like he remembered nothing else; the day the prince had been crowned king. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em> “Relax. You may speak freely.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Uruha can't relax. His shoulders may, but that thing in his chest seems incapable.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Your Majesty,” he says, and the new title feels unfamiliar on his tongue, “why have you called me here?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Because I know you desire me.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Uruha’s shoulders rise again with a gasp for breath. He has to bite his lip to keep himself from cursing under his breath and the new king chuckles at the sight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Frustrated I figured you out? I know you were trying very hard.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> As he pushes himself away from his vanity table and sashays over, he tilts his head and smiles at Uruha in a way that tells him that there is no escape. Not tonight, and not ever.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Do not worry. I have them all figured out.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Uruha swallows, but he doesn’t dare move. If he did, he couldn't guarantee to keep his hands where they belonged.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Why am I here then, of all people?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The king’s steps halt right before him and the scent of his eau de cologne strikes Uruha as too intense to be left of what he put on before the banquet. It’s dangerously mind-clouding. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You intrigue me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Is that all?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Eyes narrow at him. Uruha realizes he’s gotten ahead of himself, spoken too frankly, and lowers his head quickly. He has no right to demand anything of him. And for a moment Uruha is just as scared of the magic in the king’s golden eye as he knows his people are; terrified that it will spill his secret, reveal just how deeply he had fallen for the king’s beauty and the abyss of it.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When fingertips breach his field of vision and lift his chin, and Uruha looks up as if he has finally seen the light, he knows it’s too late. The king has found it all, and he is planning to indulge in it. Something in Uruha’s countless unspoken offers allures him, and he is going to take him up on every single one of them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Undress,” the king purrs against his lips. The word oozes like resin into Uruha’s soul. It is the sweetest of invitations he has ever heard and he can't resist.<br/>
<br/>
</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>In all the six years of their affair, they had never kissed. The king had rules and he was lenient with none of them, but especially not this one. Uruha yearned for it, but he never asked. </p><p>The early hours of their morning were the most magical to him. It were the hours of half-darkness, hours only for him and his eyes to wander along pale curves and supple flesh, across chiselled jawbones and patterns drawn on naked skin by the sun invading the room through the thick brocade curtains. And while he liked to pride himself on his ability to keep himself in check, in moments like this it didn't function very well. He always gave in sooner or later; rolling over, dragging the silken sheets around his hips with him, and grazing his lips down the king’s bare abdomen. The skin beneath them was smooth and taut, fine, hidden muscles molding perfectly against his featherlight kisses as though they were made for each other. Uruha knew they weren’t, and had never been.</p><p>Eventually, fingers came brushing through his hair, and he smiled at the familiar sensation. Uruha pressed his mouth heavy against the king’s stomach in acknowledgement. His palm slid up the side of his delicate waist and he poked his tongue out, delving into the king’s navel daringly while their eyes met, half-lidded with lust.</p><p>Uruha had done it all endless times before, yet nothing about the way it felt to him had changed. The king loved to be worshipped and Uruha lived to worship him. It was easy, and the taste of their sins akin to drops of nectar down his throat. </p><p>A low sigh escaped the king as Uruha’s mouth dragged a wet trail up his chest. He writhed in bliss, digging his fingers into the cushions above his head. Perhaps it was in a moment of weakness that he allowed Uruha to climb on top of him or maybe, most likely, he was mocking him. The rush of ecstasy Uruha felt upon crawling towards the prey he’d been after <em> for six years </em> would only last an instant. </p><p>One as black as midnight and the other warm like liquid gold, the king opened his eyes when the soldier’s lips were a mere breath away. They challenged Uruha, <em> taunted </em> him—fully aware that he would never venture to act on his desire without permission. </p><p>Gazing down at the king the way he was, Uruha damned his own selfishness. Shiroyama Yuu had never truly been <em> his </em> but Uruha? He was Shiroyama Yuu’s entirely and the battle scars adorning his body were proof enough of that. Nothing, not a single thing, horrified him more than the prospect of losing the man he had endured them for. </p><p>“Are you still sure?”</p><p>It was rare for him to voice his personal opinions on the king’s orders, it wasn't his place, but this time around … it’d become an issue of dispute that had accompanied them for weeks. </p><p>“Are you still squandering your time trying to change my mind?” </p><p>“I’m trying to make you see that you’re about to lead your entire people into disaster <em> and </em> get yourself killed in the process.”</p><p>Uruha sucked in a breath. He seldomly let his real emotions get the best of him but when they did, seeping through the mask he’d learned to wear like they were now, they turned into a whirlwind too destructive for either of them to stop. Reaching out, he brushed his fingertips through the silky black hair framing the king’s cheek.</p><p>“I can't let you do this,” he whispered. The king gazed at him for a silent while, just seconds away from nestling against Uruha’s palm— only to lift his hand and push Uruha’s away. It was as clear a signal as any. The battle plan was decided and no amount of pleading, no amount of painfully obvious affection, could undo it. </p><p>Uruha restored the distance between them and the king fled his bed within seconds. </p><p>“You are getting too caught up in this, Uruha,” he said as he wrapped himself in his robe, a warning to his voice that Uruha wished he could unhear. “Do not underestimate what I am capable of.” </p><p> “I <em> know </em> what you are capable of, Your Majesty,” Uruha answered quicker than he could stop himself. He sat up to prop his arms atop his knees, watching the king stroll towards his vanity table where he picked up a hairbrush. </p><p>“And yet here you are, telling me not to use my powers to defend my kingdom. Surely you must see the discrepancy.”</p><p>“Their mages are <em> too powerful, </em> ” Uruha insisted. “I’ve <em> seen </em> them on the battlefield, I’m wearing their marks <em> on my back. </em> You saw them, I almost wouldn't have made it past those injuries- ”</p><p>“Had it not been for me curing them, if I remember correctly.”</p><p>“Yes, and it <em> exhausted </em> you.”</p><p>The brush froze mid-movement, yet no words came. Uruha gritted his teeth at so much stubbornness. He wasn't particularly fond of the memories himself seeing how he had been on the brink of death that night, but the king <em> loathed </em> them. He hated anything that could serve as a reminder of his weakness. Or what he considered his weakness, anyway. Uruha, for his part, remembered vividly how the tears that had welled up in the king’s eyes at the sight of his lacerated body had acted as his light at the end of a very, very long tunnel. The king only remembered how fast he had wiped them away. </p><p>“I have been hiding long enough. I am tired of it.” </p><p>The king had put the brush down, his long hair falling past his shoulders again as he looked at Uruha in the mirror. </p><p>“They are coming closer and they massacre every villager on their path, heist their children, defile their women… It is never going to end no matter how many of you I send. If I do not act, I will drown in their blood on my hands, Uruha. He will not stop at anything until I face him and he has more than proven it. I say let him come.”</p><p>Uruha scoffed in disdain, shaking his head to himself until their eye contact broke. Anger and despair were beginning to boil up inside him and he cared too much to attempt to soothe them. Shoving the blankets off his body, he arose and irritably swooped his clothes up from where he’d tossed them to the floor last night. The king’s gaze followed him through the trifolds of his mirror. Uruha could feel it like flames licking along his spine; watching him as he got dressed, gauging how much more it would take until he lost his composure, <em> waiting </em>. Even as it happened, the king remained quiet.</p><p>Uruha stared down at the royal emblem woven into his uniform.</p><p>“I have … done <em> everything </em> ,” he pressed out between his teeth. “I have done everything you’ve asked of me. Because I swore to serve you, to do anything it takes. I deceived, tortured, murdered. I have killed thousands in your name and I would kill them all over again if you needed me to. Despite knowing that you were using me, knowing that I was nothing but a tool, I came back to you every single time, and I will until the end. You know I would follow you anywhere, <em> you know… </em>how I feel.”</p><p>By the time he slipped into his jacket, Uruha’s hands were trembling. Any and all attempts to calm them and regulate his breathing failed miserably. It aggravated him. Damn his foolish heart, damn his emotions. <em> Damn the king. </em></p><p>The king who stood gracefully, leaning against his vanity with knowing in his eyes and ice on his lips. Uruha cursed him and everything he was. They had passed the point of no return so long ago, he wasn't sure if there had ever even been one.</p><p>“I’m not taking you as a lamb, Your Majesty,” Uruha said, defeat oppressing his voice. His chest rose with the dire need for air but he couldn't even look at him.</p><p>“But I took an oath to protect you, and now you’re asking me to drag you to the slaughter? Your determination to fight is honorable, I assure you that, but as the Commander of your army it is my duty to tell you that your plan is doomed to fail. We are <em> here, </em> let <em> us </em> fight for you. We are all replaceable. Your surprise attack won't take them down, you're- ” </p><p>Uruha broke off, pressing his lips together. How much more obvious would he have to be? After a hard gulp, he roughed a hand through his hair, grasping at it as if he wanted to rip it out like a mad man. Maybe he wasn't so far away.</p><p>“You're not going to survive this and I’d rather let them slit my throat before I stand by and watch.” </p><p>“Would you ever betray me, Uruha?”</p><p>His head snapped up. Would he… what? Disbelief ate into his features and he gaped at the king, aghast.  </p><p>
  <em> “What?” </em>
</p><p>It was utterly absurd. How had he even— </p><p>“You heard me.” </p><p>Uruha blinked, once, twice, before bitter realization hardened his expression. He wanted to think of himself as a truthful man, but he knew he wasn't even close. Their relationship had forced him to be dishonest more times than he could count.</p><p>The thought had been there, at the far back of his mind, only for the split of a second. He’d almost wanted to burn his own brain out for even thinking of it. Almost. Because the fact of the matter was, Uruha loved him. Uruha loved him more than he had ever loved anybody, and no measure was radical enough if it meant to protect him. </p><p>As miniscule as the idea had been, the king had found it; just like he had discovered everything else Uruha kept buried beneath the towering shadows of his conscience. Not only had he found it, he had spoken it into existence with a question that demanded no answer, and now it was hanging in the air between them like the sword of damocles. </p><p>Uruha was a liar as much as he was human. </p><p>“No.”</p><p>The king smiled. </p><p>“Hm,” he made, moving to bridge the distance. Uruha turned to face him, if only out of conditioned respect. He shivered when fingertips came to graze along his temple and down his cheek. </p><p>“You are not scared of much, are you?” the king asked softly and his black-golden gaze followed the trail his touch had left. “You kept looking into my eyes as if you were not aware that I can read you like a book on its last page.” </p><p>Uruha swallowed, but he didn't dare speak. There was nothing left to say. Absolution was long out of reach. The king let his palm rest atop Uruha’s heart and granted him one final look into his eyes.  </p><p>“I have enjoyed all the little talents of your tongue, Commander,” he said. “Unfortunately, lying is not one of them.”</p><p>The king’s fingers slid off Uruha’s chest and so did all of his warmth. After taking a single step back, his face petrified and he looked at Uruha as though he had never known him. </p><p>“You are dismissed.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you liked this, please consider giving Kudos or leaving a comment to let me know! :) Thank you so much for reading, and I hope everyone stays safe (and home, fucking stay home) in these times of the Covid19 crisis. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>